When I Said Forever
by Awkward Turtleduck
Summary: A chance reunion after nine years brings forth an opportunity to set things right. If they can work out what 'setting things right' means. Brittany Pierce x Sam Evans, Santana Lopez x Quinn Fabray, mentions of Santana Lopez x Brittany Pierce, Quinn Fabray x Rachel Berry. On indefinite hold.
1. If there's no reason to notch the memory

**When I Said Forever**

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Glee or any of its characters.  
**Pairings:** Brittany Pierce x Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce x Sam Evans  
**Spoilers:** Up to the latest. 4x01.  
**A/N:** The title's from Tracy Chapman's "Less than Strangers." Might expand this, if, as usual, I get around to it.

* * *

**Chapter 1:** **If there's no reason to notch the memory**

It was purely by chance that she saw her again after all these years. Santana would have never willingly put herself in this situation, not so much awkward but uncomfortable. True, it has been years, six or ten, she wasn't too sure—_why waste time counting dead time?*_—but she guessed her heart would never completely recover.

The sight of her smiling brightly, her blue eyes shining with such unbridled happiness, with—here Santana never manages not to choke—a little boy in her arms, was not exactly a stranger to her. After all this image has mocked her endlessly since the day they broke up.

'No, _she_ broke up with _me_,' Santana corrected herself with a bitterness that had never really abated even through the years.

But this nightmarish image was now a reality she couldn't deny, and what's more, it saw her too. The woman's smile widened as she called out in that sweet voice, blissfully untainted by the demons that had always plagued Santana.

"San!"

Santana, who had stopped in her tracks in the corner of the street when she saw the other woman crossing from the other side, toddler in tow, forced a little smile. She was grateful for the aviator shades she was wearing; she could already fill her eyes stinging.

"Britt…" her voice came out low and raspy and so fragile that she hated herself for it.

Brittany jogged the remaining distance with a grace that told Santana that she was still dancing. When she was close enough, Brittany leaned over and kissed Santana's cheek before enveloping her with a one-armed hug. She pulled back to survey Santana before hugging her again. "Oh San, it's been a while!"

Santana's jaw clenched and she wondered if _a while_ meant _dead time_ for Brittany too.

"That's an understatement." Santana thanked heavens that at least her voice stopped sounding like it was going to break with the next word she was going to utter. She shifted on her feet uneasily, torn between wanting to be polite and wanting to just disappear. The grunts and angry mutterings brought them back to the fact that they were still standing in the corner of the street, obstructing the way for the pedestrians.

Brittany grinned sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a light shade of pink. "Are you in a hurry? We can go grab a coffee at the Bean, yeah?"

"I…" Santana weighed her options. If she refused now, Brittany would undoubtedly ask for her number and make sure that they would go out to catch up on stuff. She could save herself the agony of waiting by just saying yes now. Besides, the kid—Santana winced as she took a glance at the little boy who remained silent and observant of his surroundings—could prove to be a convenient excuse to flee, an advantage she might not have next time. So she shrugged her shoulders and mumbled, "Yeah, that sounds good."

**xxx**

It wasn't so crowded in the Lima Bean when they walked in. Which wasn't surprising really since it was the middle of September, mid-morning even, and the usual patrons of the shop were students. Even so, Santana opted for the corner spot, away from people, away from the windows, away from light. She had this notion that the corner provided enough cover for her. Brittany didn't seem to mind, though, and she waited patiently as Santana placed their orders. Despite the fact that their drinks could just be brought to their table, Santana chose to wait for them instead, hanging by the side of the counter. Trying to gather as much courage as she can, trying to harden her heart as much as she can.

"Milk chocolate and Venti black coffee for Santana!"

Santana gave a thin smile to the coffee boy as she took the drinks. When she reached their table, she saw Brittany playing choo-choo train with her little boy, who was laughing and clapping his hands whenever the train came too near. The sight made Santana grip her coffee too hard that it crumpled a little in the middle, spilling some of its scalding contents on her left hand.

"Shit!"

Brittany's head snapped up and in an instant, she had taken both drinks from Santana's hands. She led her to the table, beside the little boy and said, "Wait here, and keep your eye on Rob; he's a sneaky one."

'Rob. So his name is Rob.' Santana looked at the boy beside her. He was playing with the train car when he felt her staring, so he looked at her back. Santana's eyes took in his features, his eyes the color of the sky on a beautiful sunny day, his light blond hair curling gently making him look like a cherub, his plump pinkish baby cheeks, and—here, Santana thought, was the reminder who this child belonged too, apart from Brittany—his pouty red lips. Before Santana could stop herself, tears made their way down her cheeks. She tried to choke down the sobs but she couldn't stop the tears.

The little boy, Rob, frowned in concern and reached over to her and wiped her cheeks with his chubby little hands. And it was really more than Santana could bear and she lifted the boy from his seat and wrapped her arms around him. Rob didn't resist, and as if he had known her all his life, he let himself be held, and even snuggled against the crook of her neck.

Such gentleness, such trusting nature could only come from the two most caring and wonderful people Santana knew. Two people who definitely deserved each other. Someone as mean and abrasive as her could never hope to play a major part in their lives and it was really inevitable that in less than a year apart from them, she had lost her spot and they found that they fit together better.

"San?"

Santana's head snapped up instinctively, forgetting that there were still tearstains on her cheeks. Blue eyes were looking at her in concern. Realizing how it must have looked, her holding somebody else's child so close, so tenderly, with her crying to boot, Santana felt her cheeks burn. She hastily but still so gently started to lift Rob from her lap when Brittany pressed a hand against her arm.

"No, it's all right. He likes you."

Santana just stared at Brittany before nodding dumbly.

"Your hand, please."

When Santana didn't move, Brittany chuckled as she took her left hand and started wiping it gently with a cool napkin. With all the frenzied emotions inside her, Santana had forgotten about her hand and now that attention was being paid to it, she could feel the skin on her fingers sting a little.

Santana watched Brittany attend to her hand with such tenderness that she could feel that she was about to cry once again. So she turned her head and looked outside instead. It was a beautiful day, one of the rare days when it wasn't too hot or too cold, nor too wet or dry. The Goldilocks weather, so to speak. Just right.

The two of them were just right. And it was only natural that they would end up together. Santana was… well, Santana was too hot at times, and too cold at the others. If she wasn't lashing out and dishing out insults, she was being silent and stubborn. Even her shows of affection tend to burn too hotly. And her reaction to things that she couldn't get a hold of completely was running away. That was why she lost Brittany in the first place. Santana couldn't deal with being so far away from her, on that year when she graduated and Brittany didn't. And so she didn't contact her for months, burying herself instead in schoolwork and cheerleading practice. She left Brittany out in the cold. So it shouldn't have come as a surprise that when she came back to Lima to visit, Brittany was cold to her as well. It made Santana so angry at first, how easily she was moved out of Brittany's heart. Like all those promises of forever and words of love were lies. And then she saw how close Brittany and Sam had become, how she would prefer to be with him than to be with her. Hell, even Ashley, Brittany's younger sister, preferred him to her then.

Sam.

Sam was a great guy. He was kind and always put others before him. Such thoughtfulness and protectiveness, it shouldn't have surprised her that Brittany would fall in love with him. (Though truth be told, she had always thought it would be Mike Chang she had to be wary of.) Especially when away from Santana, Brittany could see how she deserved better. Santana thought that it was merely out of habit why Brittany stayed with her. There really wasn't anything good about her. Somehow, she had always known she was bound to lose Brittany, once Brittany realized how mean and bitter and damaged Santana really was, and once somebody else, somebody better, discovered Brittany's innocent goodness.

And that time came, in that year after Santana graduated from high school, leaving behind Lima and Brittany.

But anticipating it didn't make it any easier to accept. Those days of pleading and bargaining and desperately clinging on to the remnants of their relationship still burned in Santana's memories. The day when Brittany told her that they couldn't do this anymore, that they couldn't keep on trying to piece together what was broken, it was the day when Santana fully realized that she was never meant to keep anything beautiful.

Santana was never just right. She could never be just right.

She could still remember sitting in her car, with Brittany on the passenger, trying to muffle her sobs. "You know I love you, right?"

**xxx**

It was near midnight and the streets were deserted. She had parked just outside Brittany's house, finally deciding to confront her. Brittany padded out of her house, in her pyjamas, her eyes already red and puffy.

They sat silently inside the car. Neither of them knew what to say, and Santana, despite having all this cocktail of emotions, spoke first, with the only thing she knew to be true.

"I love you, Brittany."

Brittany turned to her, her eyes wild and she grabbed Santana by the neck and crushed her lips against hers in a needy, desperate kiss. It was all lips and teeth and it hurt, nothing like their kisses before. It was at this moment that Santana felt it was really over.

Brittany pulled back and looked at Santana's eyes searchingly. "You know I love you, right?"

Santana bit back a harsh laugh. "I know."

"You know… but you don't believe it."

Santana took a deep breath as she turned her gaze back to the empty street. After taking a deep breath, she spoke in a soft voice, "What am I supposed to believe in? If I believe in that, then I have to also believe that love never lasts, that it leaves you hurting."

"Not everybody who loves each other can stay by each other's side, San."

"Let's not do this, please. If you're going to break up with me, be swift about it."

"But I need you to understand first that I love you, San, I love you! It's just that the past year wasn't kind to us. The distance wasn't kind to us. We're too young to take on such an anniversary—"

"Adversary," Santana couldn't help but correct with a small smile on her lips.

Brittany reflected that smile before continuing. "We're too young, San."

"And _we_ can't wait?"

Brittany ignored the venomous implication in that question. "We have our lives ahead of us."

Santana let out a shaky sigh. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles went white. "Is there… is there hope for us in the future?"

Brittany reached over to touch Santana's knuckles before covering her hand with hers, her fingers finding their way in between those of Santana's. "We can't let ourselves be tied down with hopes and expectations."

A harsh hollow laugh echoed inside the car.

"See, it's when you say all these rational wisdom-filled words that make me think that you don't love me at all!" Santana shook her hand free from Brittany's and she buried her face against the driving wheel. "But," she whispered almost to herself, "but then it makes perfect sense why you wouldn't."

"Santana…"

"You're smart, Brittany, smart enough to realize… that you deserve better…" Santana suddenly felt tired. Her limbs felt heavy and she wanted nothing more than to just curl in her bead and forget about the world. She lifted her head from the wheel. "I have to go."

"Santana…"

"Please, Brittany."

"I love you."

Santana turned to face her and smiled thinly. "'Even the most deathless love can wear out**,' yeah?"

Brittany's eyes studied her face, as if trying to find the answer to the question as to whose love Santana was talking about. When Santana turned away, Brittany let herself out of the car.

The question remained unanswered.

**xxx**

"How are Rachel and Kurt?"

Santana snapped out of her daze and turned to look at Brittany folding the napkin. She withdrew her hand and shifted the little boy who was now snoring gently in her arms. She instinctively tightened her hold on the child.

"Haven't they been sending you their monthly newsletters?" Santana spoke softly so as not to wake Rob.

Brittany smiled. "Let me take him."

"No. I mean, no, it's all right." Santana breathed in the smell of the little boy, all sweet and powdery, the baby scent that bore little traces of his parents. This boy was real, the future that she had wished for Brittany and herself once upon a time, and then after that night, the future she had wished for Brittany, period.

And as if to mock her predicament, the shop speakers started to play Adele.

Brittany must have caught on since she had this searching gaze in her eyes. She shifted in her seat.

"How have you been?"

Santana took a sip from her coffee before answering, "Same as always."

"Well that's a vague answer," laughed Brittany.

"Well that was a vague question."

"Okay then. I didn't know you were back. When did you arrive? How long are you staying?"

"I just arrived the other day, and I'm leaving the day after tomorrow."

Brittany furrowed her brows. "That's a pretty short vacation."

"It isn't really a vacation. I just… wanted to surprise my parents. It's been a long time since I've seen them."

"Just them?"

Santana studied the face of the woman in front of her, but she couldn't read anything. She wondered for a moment if she had stopped being able to read her thoughts ever since they broke up, or if she had never really known how to read them at all and that she had just deluded herself that she did for a while.

Santana shrugged her shoulders.

"Still so shy, I see," teased Brittany.

"You have a beautiful child."

Brittany's eyes softened and she ducked her head in that way when she felt really happy and didn't know what to say or do. "Yeah. He's like the best thing that ever happened to me."

The coffee suddenly tasted a thousand times more bitter in Santana's tongue. "I bet."

At Santana's tone, Brittany raised her eyes. It looked as if she was trying to read her and Santana had that awful feeling that Brittany was much better at this than she was. Or maybe she was just too easy to read.

"San…"

She knew she should change the conversation now. They were in dangerous territory. But for the life of her, she couldn't think of anything else to say. So she started to scratch her nail against the side of the paper cup.

"I wasn't talking about Sam, you know," Brittany whispered. "Robin's the best thing that has happened to me."

Santana laughed softly. "Robin? As in Batman's Robin? Oh god, Trouty is such a geek."

Brittany pouted. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not. Robin's a beautiful name. I guess I'd also have thought of that seeing this beautiful boy."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Santana looked at the boy sleeping against her chest. She couldn't help it; she pressed a soft kiss on top of the curly blond head.

"Are you seeing someone now?"

Santana scoffed. "I wish."

"Why not?"

As she opened her mouth to reply, the song changed to Sinnead O'Connor, and she said instead, "Nothing compares to you."

The effect was instantaneous. Brittany's cheeks and the tips of her ears pinked and Santana was sure that despite her skin color, her blush was just as evident.

"Uh… I mean, the song title was…" Santana mumbled in embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Brittany hesitated before continuing, "Nothing compares to you, too."

"Please don't say things like that," Santana said in a cold quiet voice.

Brittany looked at her. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped. Then she whispered, "I still love you, you know."

"You shouldn't be saying that in front of your kid."

"It's all right. Because it's true. It doesn't mean that I don't love Sam."

"This is what I could never wrap my mind around. Ever since your thing with Artie. How you could throw those words around freely. And mean them too."

Brittany smiled sadly. "And what I couldn't understand is why you would never believe me when I say that I do love you too."

"Because if you did, you would choose to be with me."

"San, we've talked about this. Sometimes people who love each other can't be together. We're better off with somebody else."

"_You're_ better off with somebody else!" Santana's eyes snapped towards the boy in her arms. Fortunately, he was still sleeping. Just in case though, Santana started rocking him gently.

"You're the one who's better off with somebody else," Brittany said quietly.

Santana started to retort when she saw that Brittany's eyes were filling with tears though she wiped them away before they could fall.

"You're so beautiful, San, so smart and talented, and with such a great ambition. I've always been so sure you'd do amazing things and be famous. I… I'm nothing like that. Yes, I can dance but, it isn't enough to get me anywhere, anywhere close to you. I wanted to be with you, God knows I did. But we were just too different, and we would have ended up resenting each other and, San, that's something that would have shattered my heart." Brittany twisted the napkin in front of her. "I… I'm just, I am not what you need."

Santana remained silent. She watched as Brittany shred the napkin.

"It's a good thing then. Or you wouldn't have had Robin."

Brittany looked at her, hurt.

"You are nothing like me, because you're better, Britt. I hurt people. I'm this person with jagged edges that cut anyone who comes close. Even you." Santana paused. "Especially you. And you're right, you are not what I need. But you are what I want. There's a difference, Britt. I'd choose to be with you, every single time. And I've thought, no, I still think, that we'd have made it through." She shook her head. "But it's no use thinking about all this now. You won't ever be mine."

For the nth time that day, Santana started crying again. This time, she didn't try to stop her tears. What was the use? Even if she drowned the world with her tears, she could never have Brittany back again.

A warm hand traced the path of her tears on her left cheek. She looked up and saw Brittany looking as sad and heartbroken as she felt.

"Have you forgotten, Santana? I'm yours. I've always been yours. And always will be."

With that, Santana let herself break down openly. Robin woke up with a start and upon seeing her face, wrapped his arms around her neck. Brittany rose from her seat and embraced the both of them.

For that brief moment, Santana felt that both of them was really hers.

* * *

_* from Gregory Maguire's "Out of Oz"_  
_** from Margaret Mitchell's "Gone with the Wind"_


	2. What if you're already perfectly happy

**A/N: **So I got around to it. The first part did feel incomplete so this is going to have five chapters, or so. And this fic focuses on Santana and Brittany's lives, which doesn't necessarily mean they'd be endgame (though it does depend on how the episodes this season will turn out). As a warning though, this story contains the following pairings (the true natures of which you just have to read to find out): Brittany Pierce x Sam Evans, Santana Lopez x Quinn Fabray, mentions of Santana Lopez x Brittany Pierce, Quinn Fabray x Rachel Berry. Future pairings will be announced in the author's notes before each chapter. Thank you for all the favorites and follows (though reviews will make me happier). :)  
**A/N2:** The category is 'angst' for a reason. Prepare your hearts.

* * *

**Chapter 2: And what if you're already perfectly happy**

"Hey."

Sam, who was busy chopping celery, looked up as his wife strode into the kitchen. He took in her casual appearance, her long blond hair tied up in a messy bun above her head, and wearing a baggy grey tee and her favourite yellow-duckies-in-blue shorts, and felt a surge of warmth in his chest. Even after nine years of being together, he still felt like the luckiest guy in the world whenever he looked at Brittany.

"Earth to Sam?" Brittany smiled, reflecting the dopey expression on his face. She made her way behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Sam made a gurgling sound, replicating the sound of static, before replying in a cracked voice, "Space Cadet Evans… gzzt… having trouble… reporting… we're under attack, Cap'n… kzzbzshht… by the most beautiful creature in the galaxy… kshhht… over and out!"

Brittany's smile widened into a grin as she pressed a kiss on Sam's nape. "Only in the galaxy?"

Sam put down the knife before turning to face his wife. He took her face between his hands and gently rubbed his nose against hers. "I stand corrected, Cap'n. Most beautiful creature in the universe."

"You have to be held accountable for transmitting false information, Space Cadet Evans."

"Oh yeah?" He kissed her on the nose.

"No longer addressing your senior officer by rank? Another violation." Brittany fingered the strings tied together at the back, following their trail to the front and to the embroidered words 'Kiss the Cook.'

"My apologies, Cap'n. May I ask what the penalties for my violations are?"

"Hmmm…" Brittany hummed as she continued tracing the letters on his apron. She tilted her head so that her breath tickled against Sam's neck. Sam shivered as he felt her hot breath and he dropped his hands to his wife's waist, squeezing gently.

"I say, you…" Brittany's voice was now low and husky.

Sam swallowed. "Yes?"

"Take over diaper duty for the week."

Sam's eyes widened comically as his mouth dropped. Brittany laughed at his expression. After a second or two, Sam joined in, his laugh more sheepish. "Geez. Should have seen that coming."

"What, you expected something else?" Brittany waggled her eyebrows.

"Well yeah, like, y'know, a little something something later…" Sam pulled her against him until their bodies were flush against each other. He nipped Brittany's earlobe. "…in the bedroom."

"Oh honey, that won't be punishment. And you did commit some serious violations."

Sam laughed again and just revelled in the feeling of having this beautiful woman in his arms. Dinner could wait. Anything else could always wait. But this, well, even after all these years, he could never get enough of moments like these with Brittany.

After a few minutes of silence, Brittany spoke. "We saw Santana today."

Without meaning to, Sam's hold on her tightened. "Yeah?" he mumbled against her hair.

"Yeah. Rob and I were crossing the street when I saw her there by Old Pete's. We had coffee."

"How is she?"

Brittany bit her lip. "She's… doing okay." She pulled back a little to look at him in the eye. She smiled though Sam noted it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Rob likes her."

The corners of Sam's lips quirked up. "Well he should, considering how much we both liked her."

Brittany studied his face for a moment before asking in a softer voice. "Liked?" Sam shifted uneasily. "I still like her, Sam. I still love her. Don't you?"

"Britt…" Sam let out a sigh. Talking about Santana wasn't something he and Brittany did very often, especially after how they broke up in high school. He chose his words carefully as he spoke. "It's complicated. You know I still care about her but things have changed radically since then. I don't think she has completely accepted us being together." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "She wasn't there at our wedding."

Brittany hung her head. "I know."

"Hey." Sam bumped his forehead against the top of her head. "Let's talk about this after dinner, okay? Our little man has to fatten up."

Brittany lifted her face and forced a smile. "Yeah." She untangled her arms from around Sam's waist. She gave a soft kiss to his lips before fully letting go.

Sam watched her as she went over to the sink to wash her hands. A little prickling feeling in his heart made him turn away and return to chopping the celery.

**xxx**

The sight of Santana's blotchy face wasn't something that Quinn hadn't seen before. If she was going to be honest, she has had her lifetime's share of that sight, most of those instances concentrated during their years in college. But seeing her in that state never failed to make Quinn frown in concern.

"S?"

Santana had been standing in the doorway for five minutes before Quinn realized she was there. She was no longer crying but with the way her eyes and nose looked, all red and puffy, she might as well be. Quinn ran her hand through her short blond hair before walking towards her friend. She really should have expected this to happen.

She and Santana had planned their trip back to Lima together. They both had been trying to avoid going back to their hometown for different and yet, at the core, similar reasons. For Quinn, Lima would always be that place full of such bitter terrible memories, memories of her mistakes and heartbreaks, of pain and loneliness. Even when the people who had caused those pain had gone and left Lima, the memories remained rooted in every nook and crevice. Quinn didn't exactly have to go to the specific places, like McKinley High or the Lima General Hospital, to feel them; they just came unbidden the moment she stepped out of the airport.

Ironically, that one place where everything started to go downhill, where her earliest memories of fear were stored, was the place she could still perversely identify as home.

Her mother was almost never home, and Quinn couldn't really blame her. After her father was kicked out, Judy had more or less felt the fullness of the prison-like in this huge house, that feeling that Quinn had always felt, and what Judy had desperately yet, for a time, successfully ignored when Russell was still around. And that feeling was worsened when Quinn left for Yale. So since then, Judy had busied herself with secretarial work, and when she became too old for that, neighbourly visits, community clubs and Church meetings. Thus, when Quinn finally came back to Lima for a visit, she found herself alone most times. It had seemed like Judy could barely identify her as her daughter; distance did that, Quinn supposed: it made strangers out of people.

"Santana?" Quinn cautiously approached the still unmoving woman. That was the thing with Santana, you could never be too sure whether she would lash out and go all Lima Heights, or if she would just break down on the floor and cry. Even after all these years (which included a brief—and still a little awkward—spell of them dating), Quinn still couldn't get an accurate read of her friend.

"I s-saw them," Santana mumbled as she kept her head down. Quinn took this as a good sign and she wrapped one arm around the other woman's waist and led her to the living room. She made her sit down on the couch, herself crouched on the floor in front of her. Quinn placed Santana's hands on the woman's lap, squeezing them gently before asking (the obvious, Quinn rolled her eyes to herself), "Who?"

"Britt…" then after a sniffle, "and her k-kid…"

"Oh." Quinn had expected her to say Britt and Sam, but this was worse. Seeing a kid was always more painful, especially when that kid was the child of the one you loved with someone else. And though Quinn had a primary experience of being the one to give birth to a child, well, the pain was different. Thinking of Beth would always make her long for a lost chance, but thinking of the child of somebody she loved made her sad for a chance that she never had to begin with. Especially when the person one loved was a woman too.

Quinn waited patiently for her to continue. Fuck this shit, she never really had much practice on how to be a good friend. But what she did learn was that keeping silent (and being attentive) did wonders.

"I'm s-sorry—" and here, finally, Santana let out the sobs that she had been trying in vain to choke back. Her shoulders shook as Quinn ran her hands up and down Santana's arms. "I c-couldn't help but t-think… it c-could have been me, Q! T-That kid c-could have been mine as well!" Santana collapsed in Quinn's arms, holding her so tight it almost hurt. "I-if only I h-had stayed… if o-only I had known that s-she'd be staying back, I'd have f-flunked my senior year, too!" Quinn could now feel tears soaking up her shoulder. "Oh God, w-what wouldn't I d-do for her!"

Quinn hummed gently to soothe the other woman, all the while rubbing her back.

"The child was b-beautiful, Q… s-so so beautiful… h-he had her eyes and hair, and, God! the gentleness… H-he wrapped his little a-arms around me and for a m-moment it felt like he w-was mine… mine and B-Britt's…"

Quinn bit her lip as the sight of a brown-haired boy in the arms of the woman she loved flashed before her eyes. She more than understood what Santana was going through; she was feeling it again right this moment. And though she could feel herself tearing up, she fought against the feeling to focus on the woman breaking down in front of her.

And just if on cue, Santana asked in between sobs, "W-was it like this, Q? W-when y-you s-saw Ra—" Quinn crushed her lips against Santana's, effectively cutting her off. She couldn't bear to hear that name spoken out loud, not just yet, not in this situation when the memory of heartbreak was so vivid. Despite the violence, Quinn could feel Santana's breathing slow down and she then set to softening the kiss, taking the woman's bottom lip between hers then slowly changing the angle.

When she drew back, she saw that Santana's eyes were still sad but the familiar look of desperation told her enough of what she had to do next. She leaned forward again to place another kiss before standing up and urging the other woman to do the same. She led her toward her bedroom, to ease the pain the both of them were feeling in the only way they know how.

At the back of her head, Quinn thought, with a pang of a different kind of sadness, of how the two of them could only find comfort in this impersonal intimacy.

**xxx**

Sam took his time clearing up the table. Brittany had offered to do the dishes but Sam waved her off, saying that Robin had been craving for 'Mommy Time' since that morning. It was, after all, the first day Brittany had free for weeks ever since she had taken up Mike's offer to choreograph a dance for this huge production his company was setting up. Gigs came few and far between for Brittany and so whenever an opportunity presented itself, she more or less jumped on it. Not without guilt, though. Sam's heart warmed at the thought of Brittany's dedication to their family and how even when faced with a chance to dance again, Brittany always fretted over the possibility of losing time to be with their son.

Things haven't been exactly picture-perfect for them, what with him still working at Burt's shop (though he now held a managerial position) but they were all right. He still sang at the clubs and bars on weekends, and there were still invitations, mostly from his former Glee club friends, to perform elsewhere. Sure, they weren't what people would call well-off, but they were getting by. And with a lovely and caring wife and an adorable little boy, Sam could honestly say he was happy where he was.

Still, the conversation in the kitchen bothered him a little. It wasn't that he suspected that Brittany still felt something for Santana—well, she loved her, yes, but Sam knew enough about Brittany to realize that she didn't love her in the same way that she loved him. Brittany never loved people in exactly the same way, which was why there was no comparison and no jealousy when she told him she loved this or that person. Besides, in all the years they have been together, Brittany had shown nothing but happiness and contentment in being with him. To doubt her now would be like a huge crime against her goodness, her pure and innocent nature, something even worse than blasting the Planet Krypton or Joker's murder of Bruce Wayne's parents.

This prickly feeling was more or less rooted in the lack of closure that they had with their relationship with Santana. Even though Sam didn't exactly steal Brittany away from her, he still felt guilty with how things ended between them. It was just that both he and Brittany were in the same boat, with both of their loved ones so far away from them—Mercedes in LA and Santana in Louisville; they were both struggling with their respective long-distance relationships. But Brittany had it harder since she had always had difficulty in communicating her thoughts, which in turn, made it hard for her to socialize. Without Santana, that one person who really understood her, Brittany had felt so lost and alone, even with her Glee club-mates. And Sam being Sam, with his tendency to look out for his friends in that older brother way, saw all this. So one day, he talked to her about it, telling her that since they were the only blondes left, they had to stick together.

It just basically started from there.

Sam never intended for anything to come out of it other than being there for Brittany during these tough times. He really liked Santana, even when she was being all mean and insulting and unceremoniously dumping him for Karofsky (though he later understood it was because she was so scared of coming out) and teasing him for his lips (hell, she even made a song about them); he saw how beneath all this porcupine-y exterior, she was so fragile and, in a weird way, kind. She was like this anti-hero, like Nightwing, whose actions were so morally ambiguous at times. And when she made the effort to welcome him back in McKinley, going to the Glee club room even when she was technically not part of it anymore at that time, Sam thought of her as family.

But they were all too young to survive the changes that distance brought. He and Mercedes just drifted apart, and though he still thought it a shame, he could see that it was just inevitable. They parted in good terms, though, which was not what he could say for Brittany and Santana. It was obvious from the get-go that Santana never really wanted to leave Brittany, but that she was bound to disappoint more people if she stayed. And Brittany didn't want Santana to put her future on hold for her; she already had so much to deal with and guilt for getting in the way of her then-girlfriend's dream would have just brought her down even more. So Santana left. But as much as the distance was killing Brittany, it was also killing her though Sam suspected that Santana had a more structured way of falling apart. From what Brittany told him about Santana being so busy with schoolwork and cheerleading practice, he immediately understood that it was Santana's way of coping. But she couldn't keep at it for long, couldn't keep the loneliness and confusion from eating her up, and soon she had withdrawn inside her shell, cutting off communication with everybody, with Brittany, worst of all. And during those times, Brittany was at her most vulnerable. It was like when she had needed Santana the most, she was left alone. So the anger and resentment weren't unwarranted.

Brittany had begun to spiral out of control, not attending school, locking herself up, not speaking to anyone at all.

At first, Sam looked after Brittany, partially out of his protective older brother streak and partially out of this unspoken, and maybe one-sided pact to Santana. But getting to know Brittany was like reading a previously undiscovered but incredibly good comics series; it opened him to a new world. Learning her at times convoluted way of speaking was like learning Na'avi, and upon mastering her language, he saw how rich her view of the world was. She saw things in colors and dream-like images that were as much rooted to the reality as the 'normal' way of looking at the world through facts and figures was. And the way she made things look so simple—no, the way she revealed things in their simplicity, that was something he had never found in anyone else before.

One would have been incredibly blind and stupid not to fall in love with Brittany S. Pierce.

"Sam?"

Sam looked up from the dishes he had been washing for thirty minutes now. He should really pay attention to stuff like this or their water bill would skyrocket. He pushed back his bangs with the back of his hand. "Yeah, honey?"

Brittany leaned against the doorframe, her hand on her hip, a playful smirk on her face. "You sure are taking your sweet time washing the dishes. You trying to outdo Ms. Pillsbury?"

"It's Mrs. Schuester," Sam laughed. "It's been Mrs. Schuester for, like, eight years now!"

Brittany made a face. "Well for me, Mrs. Schuester is that crazy lady who gave us those drugs back in Sophomore year." A smile crossed her face. "I remember playing strip poker that night with Lord Tubbington. I ended up sleeping naked on the floor." The smile faded as she added, "I miss him so much."

"Britt…"

She shook her head, her smile reappearing. "S'okay, Sammy. Hurry up with those dishes! Rob wants to show off his dance moves! Though he's mostly doing your body roll." She narrowed her eyes at Sam. "Have you been giving him private lessons?"

"No no no!" Sam lifted his soapy hands in mock surrender. "I swear I haven't! I wouldn't dare infringe on your territory."

"Well you better not be." Brittany crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Or you get diaper duty for the next three months."

Sam stared in horror before Brittany let up and cracked a huge grin. "Just kidding. Come on!"

**xxx**

Quinn stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows cast by the orange light from the lamppost outside shift when a vehicle sped by. She used to be scared of shadows back when she was younger, and she would almost always cry herself to sleep, letting exhaustion take over so as to escape the terrible dark demons. When she grew older and the demons took on the more tangible shape of people around her, she stopped fearing the shadows and instead found a strange comfort in them. Reality had become more terrifying, after all.

She felt the body beside her shift. Her bed was still too small for two but it didn't really matter. They had always clung to each other tightly, like drowning people holding on to a raft.

"Q?" A voice raspy and still groggy from sleep called out.

Quinn found it befuddling and, at the same time, heartbreaking how Santana always called her name in bed even when she was just right beside her. Like how no physical contact can reassure her of somebody's presence. Quinn guessed it was the combination of childhood trauma of emotionally-absentee parents and of the one person she had loved wholeheartedly leaving her despite the truckload of memories of physical (and of course emotional) intimacy. Somehow it seemed to have imprinted on Santana's mind that physical presence could mean nothing.

"Q?" This time there was a slight tinge of fear. Quinn shifted to lie on her side and look at the woman beside her. Santana still had her eyes closed. Quinn also found it strange how Santana trusted her hearing more than her sight. After all, Santana just had to open her eyes to see that Quinn was indeed still beside her. But every time, she waited to hear her voice before opening her eyes.

"I'm here, S." She pressed a soft kiss between Santana's furrowed brows.

Santana finally opened her eyes, dark and deep like the shadows on the ceiling. Her features relaxed as she took in the sight of Quinn staring back at her.

They stayed lack that for a while, just looking at each other, when Quinn broke the silence. "Why don't you just open your eyes?"

Santana frowned in confusion before understanding dawned on her. She closed her eyes once again. "I… I guess, I just wanted to prepare myself… 'cause maybe, it would be different this time… I…" She shook her head. "I can't really explain it, Q."

Quinn studied her face for a moment before sighing. "Well, how are you feeling?"

"I'm sorry."

"Is that the answer or are you just apologizing?"

"Both."

Quinn ran her fingers through her hair as she huffed in exasperation. "We've done this so many times, San. Why are you still apologizing?"

"Just because it's become a habit doesn't mean I stop feeling something about this," Santana snapped back in a quiet voice.

A hoarse laugh escaped Quinn's lips.

"What?" Santana asked, irritated.

Instead of replying, Quinn leaned forward and pressed her lips gently against Santana's. "Aren't we a sad pair?" Quinn mumbled against her lips.

This should have been awkward and yet, what she and Santana discovered years back when Santana impulsively drove down to Boston and gotten herself drunk on whiskey while bawling over Brittany to Quinn and which soon had Quinn admitting what she really felt for Rachel and which after a month, culminated in the best (though Quinn didn't have much to compare it with, really) no-feelings sex she's ever had, this had become an adequate way of coping with their feelings of loss. This quickly became a semi-regular thing, lasting for eight years. Quinn supposed that this worked between them, because they were bound by such a close bond of friendship, and as such, they were able to bleed out their emotional pain to each other. And yet they were also both so hopelessly in love with somebody else, which nipped the bud of complications caused by romantic feelings.

But of course, Quinn knew enough that this was an unhealthy arrangement. But like a drug, they couldn't seem to quit it. They would have to fall out of love with their respective beloved first.

"Hey, Q?"

"Yeah?"

Santana hesitated for a few seconds before asking, "Why didn't we work out?"

Quinn bit back a sarcastic remark upon seeing that soft, vulnerable look in Santana's dark eyes. She shrugged her shoulders. "'Cause we just don't. We're not what each other want."

Santana bit her bottom lip, her brows scrunched up. "But… why do we still do this? Why _can_ we still do this?"

Quinn remained silent. It wasn't like Santana didn't know. Of course she knew. Leave it to Santana Lopez to have a logical explanation for everything. But, then again, today was… different. Something that had rendered Santana so breakable. She seemed like a cat declawed, and that made Quinn's heart ached a little. "It's like a band-aid solution, S," she finally whispered back. "Two needy souls temporarily filling up each other's void."

A thoughtful look crossed Santana's face as she looked at Quinn. She raised her hand and began tracing the side of Quinn's face, from the ridge of her brow to the apple of her cheek and down to her jaw. "You deserve to be loved, Q… You know, if I could, I think I'd love you very well… Damaged as I am, I think I could do that much… You're beautiful, Q." And Quinn thought she heard her add in a barely audible voice, "So achingly beautiful."

A feeling of tenderness rushed through Quinn as she gave a ghost of a smile. "If I could, I'd love you very well, too. Come here."

Santana snuggled closer, resting her head on the crook of the other woman's elbow, her nose brushing against Quinn's chin. She let out a soft sigh. Quinn wrapped her other arm around Santana's shoulder, holding her close, wondering why God was so cruel as to have damaged them almost to the point of crippling, to deprive them both of the ones they loved, and worst of all, to deprive them of the chance to find true solace in each other who were so willing to give just that.


	3. So much for our ever after

**Chapter 3: So much for our ever after**

The sky was tinted purplish-pink in the early hours of dawn. Brittany had always been an early riser. She loved watching the sky change its colors in the few hours when most of its audience were asleep. Brittany had always wanted to see everything beautiful, in the dark early hours of the day, in the crevices between cabinets and the walls, in the yet unfinished structures being built across the street, etc. It wasn't like she didn't know how bad the world can be; she would just rather find the positive aspects of it.

She shifted beside Sam's sleeping form. He was snoring softly, something that Brittany had found strangely endearing. It was this sound that reminded her, reassured her, that he was there beside her. She had more than enough memories of waking up to an empty side of the bed, the sheets cold, and no hint of another person having been there save for sometimes, the indentations and creases on the pillow and the mattress, and most often, a lingering scent.

This used to haunt her but after all these years being with Sam, she had learned to wake up easy again. True, there were still some mornings when she woke up with a start and a choking fear of finding herself alone. She would then keep her eyes closed and listen, and when she heard Sam snoring, her heartbeat slowed down and she would snuggle closer to him, feel his warmth and the steady beating of his heart.

Life with Sam was nice and easy.

It wasn't what she had envisioned for herself when she was younger, but dreams could change.

She gingerly sat up and stretched her arms above her head. It was her turn to make breakfast today. She and Sam took turns preparing meals for the family, depending on their schedules, that way nobody is stuck with the 'housewife' role. This was only one of the million and five things that she loved about Sam.

She threw on her pink fluffy bathrobe over her shirt and shorts and padded towards the kitchen. It was only six a.m. and Sam didn't have to go to work until nine. Robin was usually left at the daycare when both she and Sam have to work. But that wasn't always since Brittany basically called the shots for her work. She was a dance instructor at a local school and she took on classes as fitted her schedule. She had taken a break when she accepted Mike's offer to team up with him for a dance choreography for three months. So now she was able to take a few weeks off before she took on classes once again.

As she was starting the coffeemaker, Brittany let herself think over what she and Sam had talked about last night after they had tucked Robin in.

Like with all their serious talks, they had it in the dining room table, both of them at opposite sides, that way no one could divert the talk with snuggles or kisses. Talk was talk, and they would keep at it until the issue, if any, was resolved.

If they were going to be honest about it, this 'issue' has been the pink elephant in the room ever since they started dating nine years ago.

**xxx**

Sam was staring at his hands which were on top of the table. He pressed his lips together and waited for her to start the conversation. Brittany allowed herself a minute or two of silent contemplation before opening her mouth to speak.

"I saw Santana today… and we talked."

Sam looked at her with his green eyes and nodded for her to continue. Somehow Brittany had the feeling that this seemed like she was confessing a crime. Which was ridiculous since she wasn't. She didn't do anything wrong, like cheat on Sam or something. And yet, this prickly sensation at the back of her neck seemed to suggest otherwise.

She rubbed the back of her neck roughly to get rid of the sensation, which just made her feel all the more uncomfortable.

She let out a sigh before continuing. "We talked… about nothing much really. I asked her why she was here, how long she was staying." She furrowed her brows. "Why are we having this talk again?"

Sam's eyes flickered from hers to his hands, back to her eyes and then back to his hands again where they remained as he mumbled, "I don't know, Britt… for closure, I guess."

"For whom?" she blurted out. For some reason, she could feel the temperature rising in her body, and not in the time-for-sexy-times kind of way but more in the irritated-slash-frustrated-slash-possibly-angry way, which, by the way, hasn't happened much to her recently. She rubbed the back of her neck again, this time even scraping her nails against her skin.

"You okay, honey?"

"Yeah, fine. We still have wine, right?" Brittany didn't wait for an answer as she got up and went to the cupboard where they keep wines—the only alcoholic beverage they keep now that they had a child. There were only two bottles left, one half-empty but Brittany chose the unopened one. She didn't want to interrupt this talk by getting up a second time for the other bottle. She also took two glasses, some ice from the fridge and laid them all on the table. Sam just watched her silently, his face more serious, wary, and, to Brittany's confusion, afraid.

"I just think this conversation will run smoother with this," Brittany lifted the wine bottle with a shrug. She started filling up the glasses with ice first and then wine. As the dark red liquid sloshed within the glass, Brittany couldn't help but remember how good that color always looked on Santana, on her lips, on her body.

After pouring some into Sam's glass, she took hers and downed it in one gulp. The warmth came slowly, starting from within her chest and then slowly spreading outwards. Slow, too slow. She wished that they had something harder. But—

What was it? What was wrong with her? Why was she craving for a drink? They were just going to talk. It was nothing they haven't done before.

'But you're talking about _her,_' a voice whispered in Brittany's ear. She and Sam talked about Santana only once before, when she sought solace in his arms after their break-up. And then it wasn't really a talk, but more of her bawling out the reasons why they couldn't be together. Reasons that she kept on repeating to herself over and over again like a mantra, whenever memories of their times together weave together a tapestry of what could have been still. These usually happen in those hazy moments before she fell asleep. So it wasn't really that uncommon for her to drift to sleep with her lips mumbling something. She couldn't even remember exactly the words she was repeating, only the thoughts and the feelings.

Which was why, she guessed, that words were failing her now.

She scratched her neck again before pouring herself some more wine.

"Britt—"

The glass stopped halfway to Brittany's lips. Sam was looking at her with concern. She slowly lowered the glass and watched the red transparent shadow it cast. She let out a sigh. She downed her glass and poured herself another one. She could now feel herself loosening up. This was one of the perks of drinking less and less: inebriation came so much faster now.

Brittany took a deep breath before speaking. "I missed her, Sam. I really, really missed her. She… she wasn't just anybody, you know? She wasn't just a first love or a best friend." She thumbed the rim of the glass. "She was my defender and my damsel, my heartbreaker and my heartmender, my number one supporter, my home… She was my everything."

**xxx**

She had known a long time ago, perhaps ever since she first laid eyes on this fiery wild-eyed girl with hair as black as the inky depths of the ocean (which she had seen on television and nature magazines), that she was going to love her forever.

It was something that didn't really made much sense when she tried to explain it but did when it remained inside her head. In fact, that was how it always went with most of her thoughts and ideas; they always made more sense inside her head. Words just seemed to fail her, and in turn, people became mean and laughed at her.

Brittany supposed it was something like her 'people-sense' kicking in. She always knew who she could be friends with, who she should be wary of, who she could let inside her world. Needless to say, most people fell in the second category. That didn't keep her from trying though, and even when her 'people-sense' was telling her to steer clear from the mean kids, she would still try to befriend them. She rarely got a different result.

But this dark-haired, dark-eyed girl was different. Brittany could immediately tell that this girl was a fighter, but not in a bullying way like Rick or Azimio, more like she would only use her strength to defend herself. Or Brittany, as she would soon find out.

Rick had been pulling her pigtails and calling her stupid when he suddenly found himself kissing the dusty playground and the fierce girl towering over him. Brittany watched in awe as this girl threatened Rick not to touch Brittany again or she would break every bone in his body.

When the girl turned to walk away, Brittany caught her hand and asked her if she would be her friend. The girl cocked her head to one side as she considered it, and then said, "Sure."

That 'people-sense' Brittany had? It was screaming 'soulmate' in her head.

From that day on, they became Brittany-and-Santana, and Brittany believed that they would remain so forever.

**xxx**

She saw Sam swallow even before he lifted his glass to drink. He was looking at the wine bottle intently, as if it was the one that was speaking.

"So when I saw her today, I was happy and surprised. I thought that I had lost her, especially since she just seemed to have vanished from my life after that night. It was a chance that I had always dreamed of, but one that I dared not to hope for too much. When I saw her again, I just realized once again how much I loved her, how much I still love her." Brittany threw back her glass of wine. "Me and Santana made a promise to always be there for each other, to make each other's dreams come true. It's true that back then, when we made that promise, we were thinking of something else… we were dreaming of a happy-ever-after with the two of us together forever." She lifted the glass, clinking the ice before putting it down. "My dreams have changed since then… and she wasn't the one to have made it come true." She looked at him and waited for him to lift his eyes to meet hers. She smiled as she grabbed his right hand, pressing it between hers. "You've made my dreams come true."

The worry that had cast its shadow in Sam's face disappeared as he smiled.

"I love you, Sam. Please don't doubt that." Brittany took a deep breath as she squeezed Sam's hand tighter. "Even though Santana didn't make my dreams come true, it doesn't mean our promise is now null and void. I still want to help her be happy… I never stopped being her friend, even when she had chosen to cut off ties with me. Which is why I have to see her again. I want to talk to her, really talk to her. And I'm telling you this because I don't want you to ever doubt me. I just want to help her, Sam. Please let me."

Sam bit his lower lip before answering. "You know you never have to ask me that. You do what you want to do, what you have to do."

"Is there a but?"

A harsh laugh escaped Sam's lips as he furrowed his brows. "I… I don't know, Britt." Brittany felt her heart drop. He glanced at her face and shook his head. He poured himself some more wine which he downed in a heartbeat. He shook his head again. "No no, I don't mean that I don't trust you, or something… If… if I'm going to be honest about it, it's just that, you do things according to your own logic, which I can't always follow…"

The prickly feeling at the back of Brittany's neck flared up once again. She poured herself more wine, downing it, before speaking. "I don't get it, Sam. What do you mean?"

"I…" Sam rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. Brittany had learned that he usually did this when he was feeling frustrated. She wondered if by not talking about this for so long, they had let it fester into something that refused to be easily resolved.

"Are you afraid I'd leave you?"

"No," Sam said with conviction. "That much I know, Britt. I know you love me and Robin and you wouldn't do anything to hurt us."

"Then what is it, Sam?"

"I guess it's just that she has been gone for so long and we don't know her anymore. Like if she has changed or what. She… she hasn't been exactly happy with how things turned out."

"Are you saying you're afraid of her?"

Sam gulped and when he spoke, his voice was a bit gruffer. "Of what she's capable of."

An uneasy silence enveloped the room as Sam kept his eyes back to his glass. Brittany could feel her face heating up, whether from the wine or from anger or from that prickly thing in her neck, she didn't know. She slammed the glass on the table harder than necessary.

Somehow Brittany could recall a similar incident to this, years and years ago, by the locker, with a different boy. All these assumptions on Santana's character, like she was—

"She's not!"

Sam's eyes widened as Brittany got to her feet, knocking her chair backwards, panting heavily.

"She's not what?" Sam asked in a soft voice.

"She's not… a bad person," Brittany gritted out. "She's not a bad person."

Sam's shoulders tensed as his features hardened. "I never said she was."

"But it's what you're implying, isn't it? What she could do to us… She would never do that."

Something seemed to have clicked inside Sam's brain since his expression changed into something between wonder and realization.

"What?"

He poured himself a glass of wine and took a sip, the look of wonder still on his face. "I'm sorry. You're right, I know she's not a bad person. It's just that, you're wonderful, Brittany. And you can't fault me for being too afraid to lose you even to an imagined threat." His shoulders slumped. "I know Santana is a good person at heart, but you can't deny the fact that even so, she could still hurt people. It's just not me that I'm afraid that she'd hurt this time around… she could hurt you and Robin, too." Brittany opened her mouth to protest but Sam cut her off. "She wouldn't do it purposely, but she could still hurt you… again."

Brittany pressed her lips together as she tried to still the emotions roiling inside her. On one hand, she was touched with Sam's concern for her, but at the same time, perhaps out of some sort of old fierce loyalty, she still felt incensed at the suggestion that Santana could hurt her, even though she knew very well that what Sam said was true.

Sam's voice broke her thoughts. "She is your blind spot."

The already heavy atmosphere in the room became even more stifling.

**xxx**

Brittany roused herself from her reverie and poured coffee on her favourite blue ceramic mug with a picture of a yellow duck on it. After adding in milk and sugar, she sat herself by the dining table and watched the sky change its colors, until it settled to the beautiful blue that signified a good weather for the day.

She still wasn't sure what was achieved with their talk last night, except perhaps for the venting of the fears that meeting up with Santana seemed to rouse. The truth of the matter was, Brittany still had a lot of questions in her head, a lot of thoughts and emotions that refused to be calmed or stilled. Most of which had been plaguing her shortly after she started dating Sam all those years ago but which she had refused to acknowledge since she didn't want to enter into the painful cycle of sticking it out with Santana, not when there was Sam who loved her so well.

She loved everybody, that much was true, and she could have chosen to be with Sam or Santana or anybody else for that matter, but what Brittany had taken from that a-little-over-a-year-long relationship with Santana was that she should be careful in choosing who she would spend the rest of her life with. That even the person she loved and who probably loved her back could still hurt her in ways that could leave lasting scars.

That was the reason why she decided to put a stop to the increasingly painful and strained relationship she had with Santana, to let her go, to let herself go, to let herself find love in somebody else… in Sam.

But she still loved Santana and wished her to be happy. And from the scraps of news that she got from their former glee club-mates, she learned that though Santana was finding success in her own way, she was still living a wild and almost chaotic lifestyle, involving strings of one-night stands and relationships so short-lived they could be considered just a longer relative of one-night stands, a brief trip to alcoholism and rehab, some fights and lawsuits and an increasingly distant relationship with the rest of them. It seemed like she only got together with Kurt, Rachel and Quinn.

Brittany had kept her distance, and maybe it was because she was a little afraid (of what, she still wasn't sure) but now that an opportunity presented itself to set things right, she was going to take it.

Maybe it would finally quiet the voices that she hears in those moments before she slept.

**xxx**

She wasn't really sure how she could get to talk to Santana again before she left for New York. Brittany forgot to ask for her number yesterday, since she was too wrapped up in comforting the crying woman. She contemplated going over to the Lopezes but as she paused outside their driveway, she found herself unable to take the few steps to their door. It wasn't like she and Santana's family were in bad terms after the break-up; Maribel, Santana's mom, was still kind to her, smiling whenever they saw each other, and if time allowed, she'd make small talk. Dr. Lopez, well, he was never the chatty type; he still bowed his head in greeting before rushing off to wherever it was he was needed.

The weather was getting chilly; autumn had come. Brittany ran her hands up and down her arms as she took a deep breath. It was no time to be chickening out; she only had today to set things right with Santana. But even after giving herself a pep talk, Brittany found herself having a staring match with the door.

the sound of car coming down the street snapped her back to attention. It was the familiar red sportscar that Dr. Lopez had given to Maribel for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Maribel was awfully proud of it and whenever she spotted Brittany walking alone or with Robin, she would offer them a ride, even if there was only a block or two left to their house.

The sportscar pulled up by the driveway. Maribel turned off the engine, and stepped out. She seemed surprised at finding Brittany at their doorstep, but she still smiled widely, opening her arms in greeting as she strode towards her.

"Brittany!"

"Maribel," Brittany leaned in to the embrace. As she stepped back, she noticed that Maribel's smile was a little tense. She couldn't blame her really. During the first few months after the break-up, Brittany couldn't bring herself to face the Lopezes. Somehow she felt that they would hate her now, for breaking their daughter's heart. But all these concerns were put to rest when Brittany ran into Maribel in the grocery store, gave her a lift home and invited her to lunch the next day. They talked about school and everything that didn't involve Santana. It seemed like Maribel was waiting for Brittany to mention Santana first, to say it was all right to talk about her. But Brittany, out of shame and secretly out of fear that her heart would break once again, never did. And now, here she was in the Lopezes doorstep, and Brittany knew that Maribel knew that she knew that Santana was here, and since they had never talked about her all these years, this situation was all kinds of awkward.

(She could practically hear the awkward platypus clapping and singing a chorus of 'Awkward! Awkward!')

She took a deep steadying breath before asking, "I-Is Santana home?"

Maribel's dark brown eyes softened and her smile faded a little. She shook her head. "She didn't come home last night."

"Oh." Brittany's throat tightened as a thought flashed in her mind, that maybe Santana had already left for New York. Her worry must have shown on her face since Maribel reached over to cup her face with her hand.

"She's still here, she hasn't packed her bags yet." Maribel studied her face for a moment, perhaps deliberating whether to tell her where Santana might be.

Brittany felt her face flush as she remembered yesterday. She wanted so much to tell the woman in front of her that she only wanted to talk to Santana and to help her, but the memory of Santana's tear-stained face stopped her. Brittany knew she could just be breaking Santana's heart once again. It was painfully obvious.

Santana was still in love with her.

Brittany didn't exactly know how she was supposed to help Santana; and maybe, it wasn't really out of the desire to keep their promise that she was so eager to see her again. That reason just sounded much more logical and less concern-inspiring. But if Brittany was going to be honest, she just wanted to—

She shook her head. She felt Maribel pull her towards her, wrapping her in an embrace. Only then did she realize that she was crying.

"She's at Quinn's, my dear," Maribel murmured as she stroked Brittany's hair.

Brittany felt something twist in her gut.

Quinn.

She had heard it only once, and that was simply because Artie slipped up, that Santana and Quinn dated some time ago.

She bit her lip and nodded as she pulled back. She wiped away the tears from her eyes with the back of her hands. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Brittany started walking to the street when she heard Maribel call her back. She turned and saw the woman looking at her with a combination of worry and sadness.

"Please be careful, Brittany."

Brittany felt her blood run cold.

**xxx**

The Fabrays' residence was in the posh side of Lima, the side that Brittany never really frequented. It had been quite a while since she's been there, the last time being a sleepover back when all three of them were still Cheerios.

Brittany pulled over by the curb. She could feel her heart thudding against her chest in trepidation. She pressed her right hand against where she could feel her heart the strongest.

This intense feeling of foreboding was not entirely unwarranted, but it was also unfair. She shouldn't be wishing that nothing happened between Quinn and Santana since she wasn't able to provide the comfort that perhaps Quinn alone could give now.

After all, Brittany had Sam and Robin now. It was only fair if Santana had Quinn.

But god, Brittany wished that it was anybody else. Anybody else but the only woman she had ever been jealous of.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry for the really late update. 4x04 really upset me, and there have been some other stuff I've been working on. Anyway, thank you so much for the faves, follows and reviews. They spur me on. My initial outline pegged this to stretch over 7 chapters but the way the story is unfolding, it might go beyond that. I'm also thinking of adding interludes, flashbacks on significant events, like when Santana first saw Brittany with Sam, or when Santana first found herself at Quinn's place. Give me a heads-up which you'd like. :)

K: Thanks for your kind words. :)  
t: Thank you for your input! I'm taking your advice re story description, and as for Quinntana dating, we'll see. :D


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